Why so special?
by 153alira
Summary: What happens when Ra can't seem to be rid of a memory that was never his. A one-shot about Ra, may lead into a full story.


**Note: I do not own Stargate. Nor have I actually seen the series. This purely based of the original movie so please do not be offended if I get things wrong.**

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><p>The gentle hum of the ship travelling though the vast openness of space was a familiar sound, one Ra never tired of. It reminded him of order, when all the pieces fitted and worked to his will, a perfect sound of harmony is made.<p>

If one thing was even a fraction out of place, Ra would have it corrected, by force.

He would not tolerate anything out of place.

He was Ra.

Supreme over all the Goa'uld.

All things ran according to his design.

The time had come for him to return to Abydos and replenish his Naquadah supplies. It had been a few good years since he had been to that planet, and his slaved needed to me reminded of their one and only 'god' and his power.

He commanded his First Prime to set course for the wretched planet, and made his way to his sarcophagus chamber to rejuvenate his host's body. His child servants silently prepared him and left him alone to sleep.

Perfect. Everything was perfect for now. All seemed to be running smoothly once more with the other System Lords, and order had returned to all his planets. At least with Abydos, none of the slaves had ever dared to oppose him.

Everything was going so well. So why then was he ... angry?

Ra traced a long, elegant finger along the edge of the sarcophagus, the metal of the rings he wore made a faint scratching noise.

This body had always served him well, it gave him an energy he had never had before, a younger more invigorating life, and it was so easy to manipulate of his will. He had no qualms, only ...

There was one thing that irritated him about this body. One tiny thing that had not subsided in the 10,000 years he had possessed this creature, nor could he be rid of.

It was a face. Not just any face, but a face from another lifetime, a face that belonged to a mere human. A mere _female_ human.

Everything else from this boy's past had been completely erased, so why did this one memory remain? What was she to this boy? His lover perhaps?

Ra couldn't see what was so great about her. She was a blade of grass compared to the beauty of his Hathor, but then again the humans were such a primitive race when he had found them, so uncivilized and unruly.

Far too often would the creature haunt him, annoying him with its presence within his mind. Every time he closed his eyes he regrettably anticipated an unwanted glimpse of the girl to appear again. He had memorized every single detail.

The shape her firm jaw line formed.

The shade of colour the shadows created across her sun beaten skin.

The strands of dark curls that had freed themselves from the braid that hung over her slight shoulders.

The fullness of her lips pulled back into a small smile and her high cheek bones.

But what was probable the oddest thing about this girl was her eyes.

Never had Ra seen such oddity in a human.

The left eye was dark in colour, similar to his host's, if not darker.

The right eye was a clear transparent grey, shining white when the sun eliminated her face.

How pathetically obesest this boy must have been, to have remembered everything about her so much that it is ingrained in his subconscious for all time.

Or was it he, having lived multiple millennia with this image, who had been so pathetic?

Ah yes.

Now he knew why he was angry.

When he'd fall into his sleep on the trip to Abydos, she would be there still, watching him watching her. Smiling at him.

It frustrated him.

It annoyed him.

It weakened him.

Did he find the girl repulsive? Did she in some very unlikely way frighten him? Or did he find her bland human appearance alluring? Was it the eyes? What was it that was so special about her!

Ra grabbed a jar from a table and hurled it at the wall. The broken shards scattered across the tiled floor, one hitting the edge of his robe. He gritted him teeth to suppress a snarl.

Destroying something always seemed to calm him down. He only wished he could destroy this memory.

Once his temper had subsided, he finally set the sarcophagus and laid himself down to rest. Nothing but the cold empty space of nothing to keep him company, and the coy smile of hopeless life form long since dead on that cursed planet, Earth.

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><p><strong>Now this is a possible prolouge to a possible story I started writting already. Please review and tell me if I should continue with it or leave it as a oneshot. The story mainly focuses on another character but this ties in with the plot. <strong>**Please help me out here.**


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